


Fears and tears

by WalkByTheClock2PassTheTime



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, BASICALLY A TON OF ANGST, F/M, Hurt Peter, M/M, May is a good aunt, Natasha is an aunt, Pepper is also an aunt, Peter hates med bay, Rape Recovery, Sick Peter, Sleep Deprivation, Vomiting, Worried Tony Stark, med bay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 14:59:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13661409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WalkByTheClock2PassTheTime/pseuds/WalkByTheClock2PassTheTime
Summary: Warning: rape of a minor (although it is only written as the guy is on him)Peter was learning to be nothing like his mentor in real life and only the best of him in battle, but after meeting Skip again when he thought those horrible years were behind him, it's easier to tumble down the same path the media thinks the Stark's went. And it makes him sick.





	Fears and tears

**Author's Note:**

> I have a warning in the summary, this is a second one.
> 
> I do not support touching someone without consent at all, in fact even in the story Skip is the villain.

 

"Open your mouth~" The same guy smacked his lips together. He held Peter's jaw down, and Peter recoiled at his breath and the touch. He gagged onto his shoulder, maybe throwing up more saliva than vomit in all honesty, but it glowed green much like the porcelain toilet behind him in the cruddy lighting. Peter tugged at his arms in an endless cycle. He would try for hours more, but loosening the rope holding him to where he needed to aim his puke was an uphill battle. One that Skip wouldn't let him win.

This was dangerous. There was danger, so Peter reverted back to his Spider ways, "K... who in the fŕuck brings rope as a party game? You're weird," Peter forced the faintest laugh from the bottom of his throat. "You're weird, you're disgusting, and I hope to God when you're done" --you get hanged--' His whispers were inaudible like his pleas to Skip before the spit balling of attitude started.

He rolled up Peter's shirt and ran his hands down each side. Skip smiled no differently than when he made Honor Roll, "For someone that takes pleasure in wearing bright colorful costumes, I was expecting you to enjoy some kinky shit." The child shook with the true worst of the freezing air hitting his muscle in the torso, face, and fingers. 

Peter went great-lengths beyond the word "stop." And it was just as useless as using "bad, good, or thing" in descriptive writing classes. He coughed, tears came to his eyes. His head got forced onto the cold toilet seat and Peter cherished the seconds he could see the ceiling until Skip reminded him, he hadn't even found the trail out of the woods yet.

"I don't want to do this," Peter rasped in a sickly manner. He eyed the avengers backpack on the chipped tile, he yearned to clean up its spilled contents. The mask of his costume was touching the floor of the public restroom, three essay papers were in the water puddles, and the front half of his binder was collecting bacteria.

It hit him in mere seconds why he could see Skip now. Skip was leaning forward. No,no,nonon. Peter has both palms on his rapist's chest and he pushed the older man away with the strength that promised to not leave him in a crisis.

Skip, five years older than the teen, slams into the grimey wall. Not hard enough to break it, but there is a boom effect in the shrunk stall.

Peter's mind rocketed from bitterness to being convinced Skip was the victim in this case. "I'm sorry, I don't want to get in trouble. Don't tell anyone, I didn't mean to hurt you," Peter prayed with his tied hands.

"Then let me do  _what I want,"_ Skip wiped the dirt out of his hair.

"I am not still doing that," Peter shivered inbetween coughs. His voice wouldn't come back to him for a few days at most because he was already sick prior to this night. He lifted his foot out of a puddle and stomped it into Skip's lower stomach. The twenty year old stayed at a leg's distance away.

Peter examined his bare-wrists then twisted his neck to see his bag again behind Skip's legs. 

"Shh. You haven't grown up yet," Skip grunted as he tried to break Peter's leg to get back to where he was.

Skip knew Peter was too embarrased to tell May about this, nothing changed since he was eight and being baby-sat. Now that Skip's mom, who was great friends with May was back in town, Skip took dinner out in Astoria with the Parker family as an opportunity to torment the kid again.

 

 

Peter learned he was only in the bathroom for five minutes total when he wobbled back to the table after a harsh scrubbing with 2 bottles of handsoap. Skip came back to the table after "a smoke break" shortly after. 

Aunt May was having fun, 'She deserves that,' Peter thought. Especially since May was mad at him under the skin for keeping secrets for months. It was best not to reveal another and upset her more.

Peter slid into his seat, feeling nausea by the plate of food presented. He held in his groan because who knew if Skip got off to that in the back of his mind? Peter instead, thanked Mrs. Westcott for coming here. 

May pulled Peter close to her side with a grin that never looked away from Mrs. Westcott or her son. "Peter, are you okay? Go fix your hair," She whispered in his ear. 

"Been sick..." Peter mumbled.

May looked at her boy in the eyes as she dug threw her purse, "Do I need to call Tony?" The concern in her expression said more words than she could.

"It's better than that, we're good. Estamos muy buenos," Peter gathered together his whispering skills and told May while holding his head in his hands. May sighed, then she pointed to the red marks on his wrist when Skip and Mrs. Westcott were distracted by a conversation with the waitress. "Where did-"

"Webshooters malfunctioned."

May was nearly sent into a coma from the panic. "As you were swinging!?" She texted him in all caps. Peter checked his flip-phone to read that. At least May knew how to not give a secret away.

Peter shook his head, messing up his hair worse on accident. May growled and this time went through her bag with no distractions. She handed Peter a comb, "Brush your hair sweetie. Hurry, alright?" 

"Mmka-' Peter stopped moving for a second.

"Oh baby," May tapped the back of her hand on Peter's forehead. The colors of May flashed before Peter's eyes, it burned, he was back. Back in the bathroom. May was gone. Skip was doing more, he'd never touch his backpack again. This was humiliating. The lights scorched the inside of his eyes and burned the brain like acid. 

Then Peter threw up at the table. May squeaked and moved back. The waitress, Skip, and his mother were staring at him, speechlessly. 

"I'll be back with napkins," The waitress left.

"Oh my goodness May, me too," Mrs. Westcott followed.

Peter was curling in a ball near the very edge of his seat. 

"I'm sorry, can you leave us alone for a second?" May turned to Skip, asking politely.

"Yes," Skip dragged the pitch of his response. He stood up, watching Peter with worry. When he realized how slow he was moving, he chased after his old mom for those napkins.

"Peter, can you get sick?" May still whispered because she respected Peter's decision to keep everything she thought was Spider-related on the down low. 

Peter didn't answer to that. Instead his eyes got wider at May's voice and he noticed the puddle of vomit between them, "I am so sorry!" 

"Shh. Shh, it's okay. I'm taking you to Tony, he told me you couldn't get ill. I need to know what this is." 

"Car sick? I still get car sick," Peter suggested. Her kid scooted away so May couldn't hug him. The only eyes Peter could look at were the potatoes, not even his own Aunt's. May sighed.

Mrs. Westcott and company came back with napkins and May took some too. 

"I think..." She started, "I need to take Peter back home. Nancy it was great to see you again, and Skip, thank you for showing us this restaurant." May pushed Peter out the door, or tried. Peter's back arched at the touch and May let him walk ahead to the car.

Peter was almost to freedom, but he glanced over his shoulder to see Skip mouthing a question. Peter read his lips and answered with a thumbs down for "No, he didn't tell May."

Peter absorbed the fresh air. It didn't help his headache or change the image of Skip in his head. May unlocked the car so Peter could get in.

"We are two hours away from where Tony lives," May explained once they were both buckled.

"I ate a lot today, and the car ride didn't really help. So thats about it. I'd rather just go home, you know? Sleep this off," Peter spoke so softly that May had to stop the engine to hear him.

She put her keys back in again, "I'll go home for you." On the long drive down the night road, May brought up the questions, "What happened to you sweetpea?"

Peter mumbled nothing, not the word, just nonsense in an unrecognizable language too quiet for his aunt to hear.

Eventually, he stuttered, "Can I- take a shower when we get home?"

"Please do," May sighed, turning the steering wheel.

Peter threw his clothes in the laundry and scrubbed the crusty puke off his arm till he was half as clean as he was before Astoria. He locked the door to his room right after, lights off, no signs of leaving.

May didn't want to bother her sick child for going to sleep at 8:11. She pulled her laptop out of the corner and opened email. May believed it was possible for Peter to have a motion related sickness, but being a concerned mother  (she meant legal guardian) She typed up a draft email to Tony Stark.

_Hi Tony,_

_This is May Parker, Peter's guardian. You told me it was hard for him to get sick like a normal human, but he is. Sick, it doesn't seem severe. More like flu symptoms he got when he was younger, but I specifically remember you saying it'd take a stronger virus to effect him, period. I'm letting him sleep this off right now, however I am banning you from taking him on missions with your "Avenger pals" until someone checks him over._

_Thank you, May Parker._

(Send) _  
_

**Author's Note:**

> So i will definitely continue this, what do you guys want to see next in the story? Also tell me what the bad parts in my writing are so I can fix it. I pretty much refresh the page for comments every twenty seconds.  
> Also I take requests for spiderman/avengers stories  
> Leave your comments?


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